Yeah Boy and Doll Face
by Wingstar102
Summary: Mad bomber in D.C. Bad run-in. Slashy and established. Yeah! MorganReid. And no, not a songfic.


Yeah Boy and Doll Face

Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own these guys. Don't own this song. Plot bunny's mine though!

Notes: Don't ask me why I did this one. I have no idea. This probably is the only slash I'm writing for this fandom... Hopefully... And once again, no, this isn't a songfic. LOL.

* * *

I think it's strange that even with eidetic memory, I only remember flashes of that night, four months ago. I suppose I'll remember it in time, but I don't think I want to. Too close of a call.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell it in proper order.

* * *

We were stupid, chasing a mad bomber into an abandoned house in the middle of D.C. Derek and I had finally come back after being married in Vermont, only to be shoved into the middle of the case. But we were so happy, I think it clouded our judgment.

Thinking back, I'm fortunate that Hotch didn't split us up after he found out what we had done. Might have been the research I had presented to him on married couples serving on the same team, and how effective they were, is what did the trick. He sternly informed us that if we can't focus on the job, he _would_ split us up. We agreed.

Like I stated earlier, I only remember flashes. I remember the firelight, the stars and how bright they seemed, and I remember looking at Derek lying next to me. Which is not what we should be doing while a bomber is loose. Then I smelled the blood.

Time and my mind caught up with me in blast of awareness.

I rolled over, checking him as best as I could. I knew I was injured. He was a mess and for a second, I thought he was dead. "Derek! Wake up, please, wake up." I doubted I could get a response from him. I never really had a chance to find out. The paramedics were suddenly there, trying to place me on a stretcher and hadn't told me if Derek was ok yet. I fought them. Once I saw a stretcher was there for him as well, I figured that _maybe_ he was. I couldn't tell if they had a body bag with them.

My medic was asking questions and I just answered, it was automatic. _Be ok, Derek. You have to be._

I abruptly came back into focus when the medic asked if he should called my wife. I'm surprised he could see my ring under all my blood. "My _husband_ is in the other ambulance." I know I was unbelievable rude, but my body finally started to feel the pain.

"I'm sorry Agent. I didn't know. Would it help to know that he's still alive?" He was very uneasy about upsetting me. Something like this must have happened to him before.

"Thank you." I tried to be contrite, but I don't think it sounded that way coming out. My teeth were clenched. I think I was trying not to scream. But the medic was a machine, firing questions at me about Derek, relaying them over the radio to the ambulance that raced ahead of us.

It took what felt like forever to get to the hospital. And the questions never stopped.

I saw doctors and nurses rushing to the doors of the trauma unit when the paramedics pulled me out of the ambulance. I looked at the medic who rode with me as they pushed me inside. "Derek?"

He shrugged, uncomfortable again. I hazarded a guess that it was because he didn't have better news. "He got here before you did. Last thing over the radio was that he's in surgery." I didn't see anyone but the doctors after that, their voices bleeding into each other, almost like the hushed singing a mother would use to sooth her child. I hadn't really noticed that I was being prepped for surgery as well.

My mind gave out for a little while. I don't think it was from the general anesthetic I was given.

* * *

I wish, even now, that I hadn't taken Diluadid for so long. Waking up in the middle of being operated on is not good. You're locked inside your own body, unable to move or scream, unable to give any indication that you can feel every slight movement of being dug into in a variety of ways. Maybe if they used sharper instruments it wouldn't hurt as much. Too bad I can't tell them _now._ I fell back into the dark of unconsciousness. I miss Derek.

* * *

_Guns drawn and ready. Spencer cleared one side of the room, Derek cleared the other. Nothing. "He's supposed to be here." Spencer frowned in concentration._

_Derek shrugged. "There's another floor. I think we passed the stairs back where the kitchen is."_

_"Ok. I'll let Hotch know." Spencer pulled his phone and dialed. Hotch told him something and hung up. "Hotch says to wait until everyone else gets here. That we'll need the back-up if the bomber is here."_

_"Right. Wait here or outside?"_

_"Outside. This place gives me the creeps." Spencer thought he heard a ticking but dismissed it for a moment. "No idea what I was thinking, wanting to check this place with only the two of us. Should have called Hotch earlier."_

_"Yeah." Derek chuckled. "Oh well. Lets go... Wait. Do you hear that?" Spencer had forgotten the ticking. Derek moved closer to the back wall, a fireplace built into it. He bent closer to the grate. "Sounds like it's coming from here." _Ticking, ticking, ticking... BOMB!_ The noise finally clicked in Spencer's head._

_"Derek, come on!" Barely being able to haul Derek away, using all his strength to pull him outside. Almost too late..._

I forced myself awake. I really didn't want to see what the scene looked like from the third person. Even still, I could feel the grass between my fingers that I pulled on, trying to get to Derek. Feel the pieces of metal and stone lodged in my back. I shoved the memory away and looked around.

ICU. Not that surprising, considering the bomber we were after created explosives strong enough to level the buildings he placed them in.

I looked to my left, were I was expecting to see him sitting there, waiting for me to wake up. He was always pleased with himself when I woke up. I think it's because _he_ believes that he made me come back. He's right, but I don't need to tell him that.

He was there, close enough that if I reached, I could just barely grab his hand. But he wasn't sitting in a chair. It was odd to see him hooked up to the monitors and IVs, swathed in bandages. I reached for him, saw that my ring wasn't there. _I have to find it_.

Rossi and a nurse came rushing in when my heart monitor beeped faster. Damn, and I had almost gotten my feet on the floor. "I have to find my ring, Rossi. He would be sad if I lost it." I knew that wasn't a rational thought, but I felt the need to have it. To know what happened to it. _I remember the medic saying that I was still wearing it, so where did it go?_

"I have them both, Reid. You need to get back in bed." He was stern about that last part and I gave in for the moment. He put mine in my hand. "See? I'll even go put Morgan's back on him for you."

"No!" I wondered if I sounded a little panicked to him. "I'll do it, when I'm allowed out of bed." It just didn't seem right to let anyone have the privilege of doing anything with Derek's ring. That was my right only. Rossi must have guessed how I felt, because he immediately handed it over.

"What happened?"

I sighed. "I'd rather tell it all at once." It was a lie, but I think I hid it well enough. "Where is everybody?"

"On their way. I'll go wait for them." I guess I didn't hide it that well. But I stopped the nurse before she left too.

"Can I get up?" I must have looked pitiful, but she still hesitated. "Please? I just want to sit next to him. I think I'm stable enough for that."

She grunted and came over to take the sensor off my finger. "Ok. But you have to take the IV with you and if you leave the room, I'm pretty sure I can talk your Supervisor into cuffing you to your bed."

"Yes Ma'am." She was kind enough to help me to my feet and with the necessaries, like water. And watched me shuffle over to Derek's left side, in case I fell on my face. Even shuffling, I hurt badly, bandages and stitches were straining everywhere. At least, that's what it seemed like.

Didn't even have to look at the rings in my hand to know which one was his. I could almost fit mine inside his without much effort. I saw the nurse slide out of the room as I sat down and grabbed Derek's hand.

"I think this belongs to you." I spoke just loud enough so that he could hear me and no one else could. The things I tell him are no ones business but ours. "I'm surprised I woke up before you. Usually you're only here a couple of hours before they release you. This will be a change." I barely chuckled. It was so hard to see my best friend, my husband, like this and be optimistic.

And I talked. I think I went on for almost an hour. I told Derek everything that mattered, that needed to be said. No point in taking the chance that he died without hearing just how much he was to me. How much I loved him, even if he wasn't awake to hear it. Saying those things made me feel better.

The rest of our team came. I wanted more time alone with Derek, just in case. But, from what their faces said, I knew the UNSUB was still loose. I couldn't just waste other people's lives because I wanted to be selfish.

I sighed carefully, slipped his ring back on and kissed his knuckles.

Standing, I saw they had all looked away. I guess they thought a moment like that was just too private to witness. I hoped they had a chance to see many more like those between me and Derek.

"You ready to report?" Hotch asked, sounding almost subdued. More than usual, in any case. Emily shifted on her feet, uncomfortable and nervous.

"Should I keep this short?"

Rossi grunted. "Well considering he's still not in custody, I would say yes."

"It was a stupid mistake. Derek got a lead, I said we should take a look. He disagreed. I talked him into it and when we got there, no UNSUB. Called you, Hotch, and were on our way out when we heard ticking from the fireplace. Ran. I don't remember much else after that." I think that was succinct enough for even Hotch. I wanted them to go. Catch this madman who's running around and blowing _people_ up, like he was some teenager blowing up his father's tool shed. Trying to kill _us._

"The lead. What was it that you found to take you to that house?"

"The stone. It's a type of granite, red granite. There are only a few places that sell it. We were pretty sure that our UNSUB either manufactures or sells red granite pavers for houses in this area." So much easier to concentrate when I lecture. I didn't have to think about what to say if I just spoke from memory.

Emily, JJ and Rossi left in a rush. I'm assuming to track down the sellers. I can't wait to know what they found. Hotch remained and I'm lost as to why.

"Has the doctor come in? Told you his condition, or yours?"

I looked at Derek. He was ashen and seemed to be sleeping. I doubt sleep kept him from waking up. "No. But I bet it's bad." I didn't see his face, but Hotch was seemed sad all of a sudden.

"I won't lie to you. Morgan slipped into a coma while they were working on him. There is some hope. The surgeon told me his chances are fifty-fifty of coming out of it, seeing as it was shock and not damage that caused it. Depends on how much he wants to." My Supervisor's words forced me to look him in the eyes. "Depends on how much _you_ want him to."

I wanted the challenge he had thrown at me, but I had doubts. "What if he doesn't know me, isn't mine anymore? If he loses his memory because of this and becomes a stranger? I can't live with that and you know it."

"If?" The question seemed almost angry, driven. "You will. That's not going to be a problem for you. The problem will come when you can't pry yourselves apart long enough to get back to work. Relief is a powerful thing."

"Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection.^" I said it softly, feeling the meaning of it. My mother told me that, when I was seventeen, after a close colleague of hers died. So fitting in this instance. I guess Hotch thought so too. "What do I do?" If I sounded even half as desperate as I felt, I wouldn't have been surprised.

"Well, I've heard that talking helps, and you're good at it. Try that." He turned to leave, but I couldn't believe that's all he could think of.

"But Hotch, there is no correlation between someone's physical presence and recognition that aids in..."

He gave me that look that always stops my rambling cold. "Take it on faith Reid. You may not be able to prove it with science, but it helps all the same. What can it hurt to try?"

* * *

It had been days before Derek woke up. I don't think I stopped talking the entire time.

I was rubbing his hand. Talking at it too. I was so tired from the long vigils at his side, even though the doctors and nurses (and once JJ swore she would bash me over the head with a bedpan) tried to make me rest. I wouldn't take anything more than the antibiotics, now that I was awake. The worse thing I could do was have a relapse. Not when so much was a stake.

"You know, I hate that gown on you."

I gasped, jerking my head up so fast that I thought I'd hurt myself. It was a pale shadow of his voice, but he was conscious. _And he knew me._ I had never wanted anything more, _in my life_, then to shout in pure joy and never let him go. Couldn't, of course, but it was a near thing. "I know." I could feel the tears running down my face from overexcitement, so I buried my face in his hand.

"Baby, what...?" He didn't even get the chance to try to sit up before he was swooped down on by nurses, making him comfortable and hydrated. They didn't even look at me, which was fine. Quick as they came, they left. "Ok... Weird."

I chuckled to myself. "They're busy tonight. I think it had to do with a concert that got out of control. I didn't catch anything after that though." I knew he was still exhausted. "You should sleep."

"And miss your pretty face? I'll pass." His looked around, taking care not to jar himself I'd guess, then came back to me. "What happened?"

"What do you remember last?"

"A fireplace...? I think you dragged me out of that house, but I'm not sure." His face changed, became puzzled. "How long have you and I been here? And where is the rest of the team?"

"Well, in order, almost two weeks and doing reports. Emily promised that they would all be here later, at some point. Rossi told me to call as soon as you woke up, but I want you for myself. For a little while."

"Two weeks?! What happened?" He looked alarmed, but I knew he was just surprised by how much time had elapsed.

"Yeah. The explosion did a lot of damage to us. You went into shock." My voice broke and I hid my face in his hand again, embarrassed. "You slipped into a coma. I was so afraid you'd never come out of it."

"Hey," he lifted my face, "I heard you, I just couldn't wake up for awhile. You know I'd never leave you. Not willingly."

I fought to blink back the tears. "Thank you." When he told me things like that, I knew I could be _invincible_, forget to be cautious. Could walk into a room with a murdering psychopath and deal with him, chase them down without worrying if I'd make it out alive, just because I _knew_ Derek was there.

* * *

"You really sat there and talked to me for twelve days straight?" He sounded like he didn't believe me.

"Well, I'm sure I passed out for periods of time, but when I was awake, I was talking to you." Three weeks had gone by since Derek woke up. We were waiting for the doctor to sign our discharge papers. I was holding his left hand, spinning the ring on on his finger. It was perfect. A slim gold band with five tiny diamond chips set equally around it. Mine matched. They were just the right size to be comfortable, but tight enough to make them almost impossible to take off. Our blood must have made them easy to remove when we got here.

"I don't think I could have talked for quite that long." He laughed as the doctor handed us our copies of the paperwork.

As we walked out, I grinned. "You could always try."

He laughed again and kissed me. "Why?"

"I want to keep you talking, because I love to here your voice." Because I had been so afraid that I'd never hear his voice again. I didn't tell him that, he knew.

End

* * *

^ Quote is from Arthur Schopenhauer

The song that was the inspiration for this is "Yeah Boy and Doll Face" by Pierce the Veil.


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